


The Closest I Get

by inkfishie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Puns, Boys Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Shiro is a nerd, Valentine's Day, everyone is legal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:25:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9882383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfishie/pseuds/inkfishie
Summary: “I want to kiss you,” Keith says, voice hushed.His breath is a warm puff against Shiro’s mouth. They practically are. Kissing, that is. Shiro can feel the tickle of Keith’s mildly chapped lips very close to his own. It’s tempting. Shiro presses closer and nudges his nose against Keith’s. He breathes in their closeness.Keith and Shiro spend Valentine's Day together following Shiro's Year in captivity.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So this is what happens when you decide to do a quick holiday fic. I have fallen in to the SIN BIN and I can't get out. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the smut? 
> 
> Also, sorry for errors, AO3 is being silly so I'm just glad it posted. Does anyone else have trouble with text being repeated after you post? Its getting annoying :/
> 
> Anyway You can find me on tumblr@ Inkfishie. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

 

 

Alteans don’t celebrate the holiday.

Coran is faintly horrified by the idea of Valentine’s Day. Who would just willingly _give_ their heart to someone else? Even Allura looked a bit pale at the idea. Until that is, it’s explained properly. Because no, no one is _actually_ going to give their literal heart away, and _yes_ it’s all symbolic. There isn’t going to be anyone actually bleeding out on the castle floors. Although, this human celebration did apparently sound like the mating ritual of the Peridax, though they use vellum made of the skin of their dead enemies to indicate their interests and...

Well, the details get a bit gory after that.

Hunk covers Pidge’s ears to protect her innocence. Keith looks bored as he picks at his nails. Lance is a bit wide-eyed and a little green at the gills. Shiro, who had once had the misfortune of meeting and female Peridax, isn’t surprised in the slightest. Peridax are frightening creatures, especially the women. When Shiro hastily explains that the holiday is a little less about gore and more about appreciating your loved ones, the Alteans are a little less wary. It seems to allay the fear of actual hearts being ripped out and given away at any rate.

It’s Pidge’s idea to do a card swap and have a party. From there it spirals a bit out of control, but Shiro can’t say he minds. He’s missed over a years’ worth of holidays, so any excuse to celebrate is a welcome distraction. Besides, there’s some lost time he has to make up for.

When the day finally arrives, Shiro spends it in the usual fashion. He hits up the training deck, he meets the others for lunch and spends some time with Black. He also devotes a fair amount of time to the cards he’s written up for each of the other paladins, Allura and Coran. It's quiet in the castle that afternoon, so Shiro suspects the others are preparing for the party as well.

He isn’t surprised when later, he wanders into the lounge to find it has been reduced to an explosion of paper hearts. At least Shiro _thinks_ its paper. The traditional reds, pinks, and whites are gone, though. Likely, because it's a little hard to find party supplies in space. It's nice, though, and clearly a group effort. Shiro can almost tell whose precision (or not so precision) cutting is who’s amidst the chaos of hand-made decor.

When Shiro spies a small table and he can’t help but smile. It reminds him of grade school. Decorated boxes labeled with each of their names are lined up atop the surface of the table. Each has a heart-shaped hole cut in the top. It has to be Hunk and Pidge’s handiwork. Though the handwriting is Lance’s. The Blue Paladin has wreathed Allura’s name in a swarm of hearts while Keith's box is covered in broken ones.

Shiro huffs out a laugh at that and pushes his own neatly labeled offerings into each box. It isn’t much, but out in space there is only so much scavenging one can do. His words, he’s decided, are worth more than whatever he could hope to salvage from the dust of a ten-thousand-year-old -castle. Still, he feels a slight curl of guilt at not being able to gift the others with something more meaningful.

Shiro is pondering this when the lounge doors whoosh open, bringing forth a burst of conversation. Pidge comes in holding an armful of little envelopes. She’s followed by Lance and Hunk; the larger of whom is carrying what looks like a cake. Lance has his arms full as well, presumably carrying more snacks. Coran and the Princess come next and Allura is grilling Pidge about more Valentine’s customs. Keith, Shiro notes, is conspicuously absent.

The Red Paladin doesn’t show up until well after the little gathering has started. By that time the others have dug into the snacks, as well as the nunville that Coran has provided. Shiro eyes Keith as he slips in, an eyebrow raised. The younger pilot flashes him a look as he slinks over to the table with the boxes. Shiro knows what that look says, knows that it is a silent challenge. Had the two of them been in closer proximity, Keith would be demanding to know what Shiro wants.

Shiro shrugs in innocence as Keith delivers the cards in his hands. When the Red Paladin moves to join the group, his eyes are still fixed on Shiro. Lance, who has also noted Keith's absence, comments loudly on it. Keith merely grunts in response.

“I was doing something,” Keith explains.

“Oh? Got something _special_ planned tonight?” Lance returns.

Shiro, who can already see where this conversation is heading, glances in Keith’s direction. The younger man’s nose is curled in a faint scowl of irritation. His violet-blue eyes are snapping with heat and Shiro knows this isn’t going to end well for Lance. Keith slides his gaze in Shiro’s direction, and Shiro feels a curl of fire lick his insides. It contradicts the impulse to quash the argument between Lance and Keith before it begins.

And it _is_ going to begin.

Shiro knows. He can tell by the feral, wolf-like grin on Keith’s face as he whips his head in Lance’s direction.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I _do_ ,” Keith says all sly satisfaction. He slides his eyes pointedly in Shiro’s direction.

Lance immediately goes red. Shiro, for his part, gets a little hot under the collar. But it isn’t from embarrassment. Honestly, Shiro hadn’t thought to ask Keith if he had something planned. He hadn’t thought to assume that just because of the holiday that Keith would want to make a claim on Shiro, or his time. Apparently, Keith has decided that the two of them are in fact spending the evening together. It’s plain from the look on his face what he has in mind too. Shiro draws in a sharp, steadying breath.

“That’s enough, Cadet,” Shiro says mildly. Keith snorts in amusement.

“Ugh, c’mon, man. I don’t need to _know_ this.” Lance complains.

“Next time keep your mouth shut then,” Keith tells him sweetly.

Shiro laughs and conversation devolves into good-natured bickering. Eventually, Pidge and Hunk wander over. They bring Allura and Coran with them. Keith is handed a piece of cake and a glass of nunville. From there the gathering develops into something like a weird birthday party. There’s a piñata, lovingly, if not badly crafted from multicolored paper. It somewhat resembles a heart, Shiro thinks. It's filled with everything from ‘free hug’ coupons to little drawings and poems. Shiro watches from the sidelines, grinning as everyone takes a turn.

After a while, he glances up to find that Keith is watching him through a veil of dark lashes. Shiro wonders what exactly it is that Keith has planned for later that evening. He also wonders how it involves him. When Shiro raises a brow, as if to communicate his question, Keith simply smiles. It's slow and inviting like he’s ready to share his secret. Like he’s just waiting for Shiro to break rank and decide that they are leaving right _now_.

Shiro holds his ground.

He’s got more self-control than that. Even if Keith is basically undressing Shiro with his eyes over a glass of nunville. But this is part of it, the slow-build, the thrill of the chase. Shiro knows Keith well enough to know that this is the game tonight. Keith can be very patient when he puts his mind to it, so Shiro decides to prolong the moment. He wants to make Keith wait for it.

The party is starting to wind down anyhow, now that Pidge has decided it’s time to look at the valentines. She sets up camp on the floor with her box of cards and instructs Allura and Coran of the particulars. Shiro retrieves his own box as Hunk and Lance settle in beside Pidge. He finds a place on the sofa, and Keith slides in beside him. The younger pilot’s body radiates heat along Shiro’s right side. His mechanized fingers whir as he reaches out to give Keith’s thigh a pat.

Beside him, Keith shifts closer. Shiro's attention splits between the box of cards and his hand on Keith's thigh. He skates his thumb along the inner seam of the Red Paladin’s dark jeans. The gesture, intimate for being in the company of others, goes unnoticed by the assembled group. Keith however, dips close enough so that his hair brushes Shiro’s cheek.

“You wanna get out of here?” He asks, innocent.

Shiro shrugs. “In a bit. I want to look at my cards first.”

“Okay,” Keith says with a shrug of his own. He sits back and picks at the fraying hem of his t-shirt. “Your card from me isn’t in there.”

Curious, Shiro angles Keith with a questioning look. Keith holds his gaze a tick then glances aside. The younger man's skin goes flush with embarrassment and he looks a little unsure of himself.

“I left it in my room. I wanted to give it to you after the party.”

In other words, while they are alone.

Shiro is fine with that. He knows Keith prefers to keep his tenderness reserved for when it’s just the two of them. In truth, Shiro prefers it too. He isn’t embarrassed by what he feels or ashamed for that matter. He just thinks that it is better served when it is kept between the two of them. Shiro's own clumsy attempt to put words to what he feels for Keith is packaged in a prim little envelope that he’s shoved into the box that Keith is holding. Knowing the younger man as he does, Shiro is relieved that it will be read in private.

“That’s fine,” He says at length. He leans in to bump his shoulder into Keith’s side and Keith smiles.

They go back to their boxes to inspect what is inside them. Shiro pulls out a card and opens it. It’s from Pidge. She’s taken a rather traditional approach, and her Valentine features a drawing of the Green Lion.

“I’d be _lion_ if I said I didn’t want you for my valentine,” Shiro tells Keith, as he reads Pidge’s card out loud.

Keith peeks over Shiro’s shoulder and snorts out a laugh. “That’s good,” He observes as he inspects his own card from Pidge. It’s another drawing of Green and she is surrounded by hearts. “You’re the cat’s meow, Valentine.” Keith reads out. His lips curl into a pleased, if not smug, smile.

There’s a light, slippery feeling in Shiro’s chest. He bends closer to Keith, wanting to kiss him. Pidge’s voice from across the room stills the sway of his body, though. Instead, Shiro turns his head in Pidge’s direction.

“Oh, you’re reading mine!” She says as she scrambles to her feet. She pads over to where Shiro and Keith are sitting and crams herself between the two of them.

Keith is reluctant as he scoots aside to make room for Pidge. She’s excited and shows them what she’s gotten from the others. They spend the next half hour or so sharing their Valentines with one another. At some point, after that, the party becomes a game of bad puns. Pidge and Coran are clearly winning when Shiro decides he’s ready to turn in for the night.

Keith, who is all arresting heat and coiled, impatient energy, has been ready to go for a while now. He glances up when Shiro pulls himself to his feet, waiting for the go-ahead. Shiro takes his time, rolling his limbs in a stretch. Then he angles his head in the direction of the door. Keith gives him a silent nod and stands.

They say their good-nights to the others, and somehow it isn’t so strange that they are leaving together. The pair of them haven’t really _announced_ the details of their relationship, but it's something of a given that they are ‘A Thing’; a unit. They are ‘Keith-and-Shiro’ and not ‘Keith and Shiro’. Then again, it might not even be necessary to make any sort of announcement. Not when Shiro shares his heart and mind every time they form Voltron.

Shiro tucks his stack of cards into his belt pouch. Keith zips his into the pocket of his coat and they leave. When the two of them are well down the hall and away from the lounge Keith reaches out and takes Shiro's hand. They turn the corner and Shiro finds himself crowded against a wall. The solid warmth of Keith’s body presses against Shiro until they are chin-to-nose.

“I want to kiss you,” Keith says, voice hushed.

His breath is a warm puff against Shiro’s mouth. They practically _are_. Kissing, that is. Shiro can feel the tickle of Keith’s mildly chapped lips very close to his own. It’s tempting. Shiro presses closer and nudges his nose against Keith’s. He breathes in their closeness.

“Oh?” Shiro asks.

His mouth curls into a grin as Keith bristles. The younger pilot scowls and Shiro smooths it away by chasing his lips along Keith’s brow. “I want to kiss you too,” Shiro confesses, a bit breathless. Then before he can think better of it adds: “I’d be _lion_ if I said I didn’t.”

In Shiro's arms, Keith stills. When he says nothing, Shiro inches back a little. What he finds is a look that could freeze even the coldest of hearts. Shiro angles a hopeful smile in the smaller man's direction. When that doesn’t seem to do the trick, Shiro leans in to offer the aforementioned kiss. He’s stopped by a hand to his face.

“Babe, _c’mon_. That was funny.” Shiro says into the palm that is trying to squash his nose.

Shiro can’t see the expression on Keith’s face, but he does hear the derisive snort. “Don’t you _babe_ , me. That was the shittiest pun ever. You stole it from Pidge.”

“But, ba~aabe,” Shiro tries again, though he’s laughing. “I’d never steal a good pun. Not when my _pride_ is on the line.”

The hand on Shiro’s face disappears and he blinks. Keith takes a step back, and he’s clearly trying not to laugh. He's turned aside to cover his mouth, but his shoulders are quaking beneath his jacket. When Keith finally turns to peek out at Shiro, his grin is hidden. Shiro can still see the amused crinkle around Keith’s eyes, though.

“I’m totally breaking up with you. Like right now,” Keith tells him.

Shiro can only laugh as he reaches out to snag Keith by the hips. He reels the younger pilot in and pushes his nose into the softness of Keith’s neck. “How about tomorrow?” Shiro asks. He mouths at the warm skin he’s found.

Keith shivers and presses closer. His arms twine around Shiro’s shoulders, and Shiro tips his head to nibble at the younger man’s ear. Keith grunts and his hips pivot forward in reflex.  

“How about you let me ravage you in exchange for making such a shitty joke?” Keith shoots back.

“Really? You want to ravage me?” Shiro poses in impish delight.

Keith rolls his eyes and then his hips in a slow, purposeful way. It’s obvious what Keith wants. Shiro can feel the heat of him where they press together. He can feel where they bump meet down the seams of their pants. Shiro grunts when Keith sidles closer. His hands span out across the breadth of Shiro’s shoulders and dig into the muscle there.

“Not if you’re going to be lame,” Keith replies.“I can always take care of myself.”

Shiro snorts out a laugh. Apparently, its the wrong thing to do, because Keith tries to wiggle away. Shiro doesn’t let him. Instead, he hauls Keith closer and bends to steal a kiss. The younger paladin fights it and they tussle. It’s playful and Shiro feels Keith’s teeth nipping at his lips. When the tension finally does go out of the younger man, he melts against Shiro. The kiss deepens, and Keith sighs. When they finally part neither of them go far. Nose to nose, Shiro smiles. Keith's breath is hot against his mouth.

“I wouldn’t mind being ravaged.” Shiro comments. He tips his head and presses a chaste kiss to the hinge of Keith's jaw.

Keith chuckles and smiles against Shiro's skin. “Yeah?” He questions. He nips at Shiro’s ear, sharp and playful. Shiro grunts in satisfaction.

“Yeah.” Shiro agrees.

He punctuates the point by rocking forward into the cradle of Keith’s hips. It knocks breathy sigh from the both of them. In response, Keith hauls Shiro into another kiss. It’s demanding and relentless and Shiro is happy to cede control. Keith shifts and presses closer. He deepens the kiss and Shiro groans. He tightens his grip on Keith and presses his fingers into the bones the younger man's hips.

Inspired, Shiro slides his palms around to cup the firm roundness of Keith's backside. He squeezes; proprietary and shameless. It has Keith bucking forward with a bit of a yelp. He breaks away from where he’s sucking on Shiro’s lower lip to scowl without any real heat.

It's something of a stand-off. Keith is giving Shiro _that_ look. The one that says that he is not impressed. He arches a brow and Shiro flashes what he hopes is a charming grin. It doesn't work, and Keith continues to scowl. Shiro is about to try a different approach when a burst of chatter comes from around the corner and down the hall. It has both of them freezing where they stand.

“Ugh, what do you suppose they’re doing? They _totally_ left together. I bet they’re being all gross and _smoochey_.”

It’s Lance. And presumably the other two paladins. Shiro’s eyes dart away for a second and then return to Keith. He slides his hands up to the small of the Red Paladin’s back and they move in tandem. They draw close to one another and nestle into a small, hidden alcove.

“It’s Valentine’s day, man. People smooch on V-Day,” Hunk points out as his voice draws closer.

“He’s just jealous he’s not getting any smooches.” Pidge cuts in. “He was practically making heart-eyes at the Princess.”

Lance squawks loudly at that. It has Pidge cackling as they continue down the hall. In Shiro’s arms, Keith snorts out a laugh too, which he muffles by ducking his head into Shiro’s chest. The conversation continues as it drifts past where they are hiding.

“I don’t care about the smooches.” Lance says. “I just wanna _sleep_ tonight. If they’re all ‘ _Oooh Shiro! Yes! My big beefy man, take me now_!’ I’m so not going to get my beauty rest.”

There’s silence around the corner. Pidge and Hunk have stopped moving. Keith has gone still as well. For a second, Shiro thinks he might have to break up yet another fight. He tightens his arms around Keith reflexively.

“Dude. Can you never say that again? That was super weird, bro.” Hunk tells Lance.

“Ugh. Seriously, Lance. There are fucking _children_ present.” Pidge says. “I do _not_ need to know that you listen to them when they’re doing the deed.”

Lance squawks again, but they’ve started moving. Their voices drift away until they are close the where the lifts are at the far end of the hall.

“I never said that! I just said I want to _sleep_! If they’re all loud when they’re doing the bedroom mambo how am I supposed to get some decent rest?! Pidge c’mon! Hunk? Guys--!”

There’s a loud whoosh, and then the voices are gone. The stillness lasts the span of a tick or two, then Keith’s shoulders start to quake. Confused, Shiro draws back. He hears a loud snort. Keith’s breath is hot against Shiro’s neck as the younger man finally gives to peals of raucous laughter.

“Oh Shiro, my big, beefy man,” Keith says with a cackle. His mouth is split in a beatific grin and his eyes are alight with merriment.

“I’m not _that_ beefy,” Shiro responds, unable to keep himself from smiling as well.

Keith’s fingers slide from where they are on Shiro’s neck and follow the defined line of his trapezius. They linger a moment before sliding down to rest at either of Shiro’s biceps. Keith flicks up his eyes up and he pins Shiro in place with them. He gives the firm muscle a pointed squeeze.

“You are a bit.” Keith reflects. His tone is smug. “I could bounce a quarter off your ass, Shirogane.”

Shiro, who has always been tall and broad, merely shrugs. “Only when I clench up.” He points out with a scoff.

“So what you’re saying is that you have a tight ass?” Keith asks in all seriousness. His expression, however, is far too smug.

Shiro stills. His eyes slide in Keith's direction. The quiet lasts all of four ticks, then Keith’ cracks. He laughs and laughs and laughs. Something expands in Shiro's chest and he grins. The sound reminds him of dappled sunlight on a summer morning. It's beautiful. So Shiro bends close and kisses the helpless laughter straight from Keith's unsuspecting mouth.

Keith squirms and grins. He's unable to focus on the kiss because he is smiling too wide. Shiro is having the same trouble, and he laughs into Keith's mouth instead of kissing him. They must look ridiculous, but Shiro doesn't care. He lingers close by, still caught in Keith’s orbit. They breathe in concert, in and out, in and out; mellow and soothing. Eventually, Keith reaches out to thumb at the place just behind Shiro’s ears. The touch is gentle and affectionate and Shiro leans into it.

"Was that you trying to flirt with me?" Shiro asks once he masters his amusement. Keith rolls his eyes and says nothing. Shiro smiles and leans up to brush his lips across the other paladin’s forehead. "How about we get out of here then, handsome." Shiro teases. "Then you can see just how tight my ass is for yourself."

It isn’t the best pick up line. It isn’t as lame as the lion joke by half, but Shiro still isn't sure about Keith's reaction. The younger man stares up at him, his face an alluring shade of pink. Shiro notes the flare of Keith’s nostrils and the sharp breath. He appears to be floundering for something to say.

Shiro beats Keith to the punch. “I mean, unless you had other plans. I could just go back to my room and do…Pushups or something. ” He comments, off hand.

That sets Keith alight. “Oh fuck _you_ , you ass!” The younger man says in a rush.

He snags Shiro by the collar and _yanks_. It’s not _really_ kissing. It is more Keith laying claim to what is already his. Shiro allows it, of course, he allows it. Keith’s fingers push up into his hair and they tug at the longer strands. It doesn’t hurt per say, but it skirts the edge enough so that Shiro groans. When he finally tries to pull away, Keith chases after him like a conquest. Like Shiro is a thing that must be owned and subdued.

Shiro wants it, but he wants to get out the hallway more. He itches to get down to skin on skin. Shiro wants to touch Keith, he wants to hear each gasp and sigh. He wants the heat, and the closeness and the look in Keith’s eyes when he tells Keith that he’s like starlight and supernovas.

Shiro tips his head and pushes his lips against the younger man's ear. He's distracted by the fingers in his hair and the way Keith's hips are pushing and rolling into his own. It’s good. Good enough that it takes several ticks for Shiro to find his voice.

“Babe,” He grunts, loving the shiver in Keith that his voice elicits. “Take me to bed? I want you.”

The question pulls a helpless whine from Keith’s throat. Shiro thinks he might love the sound of that that even more than Keith's laugh. The sound is raw and _real_. Keith’s impatience as he scrambles to comply is unmistakable. He eases away from Shiro and steps out into the hall. He tugs Shiro out of their hiding spot and twines their fingers together. Once he accomplishes this, Keith pulls Shiro down the hall toward the elevator.

When they are inside Keith unravels their fingers to jam at the button for their floor. Then he twists away, all feline grace. He slinks backward until he’s leaning against the far wall. Shiro tracks the movement with his eyes. He watches the subtle sway of Keith’s slim hips and the way the younger man's body relaxes in a casual slouch. He’s all long, lithe lines and easy, feral allure.

Keith's arousal is also quite plain. His jeans tent at the crotch and Shiro’s eyes catch the salient curve with a measure of longing. The lift whizzes up through the castle. It feels like it is taking forever and it tests Shiro’s patience.

What he _wants_ to do, what Shiro imagines himself doing, is crossing the distance between the two of them. Shiro doesn’t give to the impulse though because he knows if he does he’ll end up having to touch Keith. He’ll pin Keith in place and press his palm into the prominent outline of Keith’s cock until they are both a writhing, panting mess. Shiro will press and tease and stroke until Keith comes in his pants.

Shiro _wants_ to do it. He thinks about doing it. Keith knows that he is thinking about it too. The younger man watches Shiro intently from across the lift. His eyes are hooded and he bites at his lower lip. Keith must be thinking about it too, Shiro decides, because he shifts his stance. He tilts his pelvis forward and draws his feet apart. It’s an invitation. One that Shiro is desperate to accept.

The pulse in Shiro's ears pounds like a drum and he makes a soft, defenseless sound. Keith _grins._ Shiro notes the way that the flush on the younger man's face has spread down under the collar of his dark shirt. For a moment Shiro thinks his iron will might actually bend and break; that he close the gap and insinuate himself between Keith's thighs. He nearly does. Shiro takes a step forward but the elevator slows to a halt. The doors slide open with a soft whoosh.

Keith lurches forward before Shiro has a chance to do anything else. He slips right by, his stride determined. He grabs Shiro’s arm on the way out. There’s a new impulse then, and Shiro gives to it. He reaches out and curls his hand around Keith’s wrist. He plants his feet. When their arms tug Keith stops. The younger pilot turns and glances backward. Curious, his nose wrinkles up in a thoughtful frown.

“Shiro?” He asks. His tone is cautious.

 There’s _something_...

It’s on the tip of Shiro’s tongue, but he feels, at once, mired in quicksand. Like he’s being dragged down by the strange lurching feeling knocking about his chest. Some of what he’s thinking is written on the card that Keith has yet to read. Somehow all of that seems important right now. Shiro wants to communicate it but he isn’t sure this is the right moment. He feels like if he says it now it would be off the mark. It puts Shiro at odds with himself.

Keith is still waiting for some sort of sign or answer. He must get what he’s looking for because he softens. He tugs Shiro from the elevator and nudges him up against the adjacent wall. It’s gentle, without expectation. It’s more of a grounding gesture than a passion play. Keith draws in close and presses his palm against Shiro’s chest. His fingers splay and heat seeps through Shiro’s clothing. It calming.

“Hey,” Keith says once he catches Shiro’s eyes. “You okay?”

The question has Shiro drawing in a long breath. He thinks about it a moment, trying to decide. “I love you,” He replies. The confession rides the tails of his exhale.

Keith smiles. It’s the quiet one, the one that he saves for Shiro. It’s the one that’s easy and affectionate and so very warm. “Is that it?” Keith questions. His voice is soft. “I thought something was wrong.”

Shiro reaches out to trace the line of Keith’s jaw with his fingertips. When they near Keith’s mouth Shiro presses his thumb up against the dewy softness of the smaller paladin’s mouth. Keith kisses the offending digit and Shiro feels lungs expand. The tightness leaves him and something light and airy fills him to the brim. Shiro grins. Stupidly, he thinks.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just wanted you to know.” He tells Keith.

The younger man ducks his head. His nose wrinkles and he looks a little embarrassed. He’s still smiling, though. He reaches out to tug Shiro by the belt loops. “You’re a nerd,” Keith says. “C’mon lets get out of here.”

Shiro lets Keith pull him down the hall. He thinks it’s a little funny considering that he is being led by his pants. Literally. When they slow near Lance’s door, he gives Keith a nudge. Shiro can all but hear the Red Paladin plotting revenge.

Shiro huffs out a quiet laugh. _“Keith_. Forget about him. It doesn’t matter.” He admonishes. Keith tosses him a wry look and they keep moving.

Eventually, they come to Keith’s door on the far end of the hall. Adjacent is the door to Shiro’s quarters, but it’s rare the two of them spend time there. Shiro prefers Keith’s space. He likes the feeling of fullness the room has even when Keith isn’t present. It feels more lived in than Shiro’s room, less transient.

Keith stops long enough to key in the code, then they move inside. The overhead lights are not switched on, but the room is still illuminated by fuzzy, soft lighting. It gives Shiro pause. He peers past Keith’s body and spies what the younger man must have been working on prior to the party.

The mattress where they sleep is spread out across the floor. It’s made up into a cozy little nest of pillows and blankets. The alcove, where the bed typically resides, is strung with a line of soft, flickering lights. Shiro has no idea where Keith even found them. He suspects they are salvaged. Apart from the color, they remind Shiro of the shimmering emergency lights that are built into the castle floors.

It’s nice, though, lovely even. It makes the room feel close and comfortable. A swell of tenderness catches Shiro about the chest. It tightens his throat as he turns his attention to Keith. The other paladin looks unsure of himself, and a little distressed. He shifts on his feet and picks at his fingers in a small, nervous gesture. His eyes keep pinging between Shiro and the cozy little bed.

“I didn’t...” Keith begins, but it’s a false start. He makes a frustrated noise and looks away. He stares helplessly at the floor. “I wanted to get you something special. But, well...There’s no chocolates in space or anything like that. Sorry if this is super lame.”

Shiro reaches out. He hates that they are not touching. He snags Keith by the hands and draws him in close; draws him into a snug embrace. “This is fine,” Shiro says, his voice is gentle. Keith melts against him, solid and real and _present_. “This is more than fine, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Keith makes a soft, derisive noise in the back of his throat. Shiro tightens his arms around the younger man. Keith might not believe him, but for Shiro it really is perfect. After missing so much, after being so far away for so long, after everything that’s happened… It’s more than Shiro could ever hope for. It’s more than he thought he would ever get to have again. It’s _enough_. Keith is enough.

The more Shiro thinks about it, the more panic starts to pick at him. There is still the looming uncertainty of tomorrow and the war that they are fighting. Anything could happen. _Anything_. Shiro doesn’t want to think about it anymore, doesn't want to ruin this. But the curl of something dark and defeating sours Shiro’s stomach. It needles him and pulls the air from his lungs. He doesn’t feel ready, none of them are ready. Shiro _can’t_ …

Keith’s arms tighten around Shiro's body. The other paladin leans in and nips at Shiro’s jaw. It doesn’t hurt, but the sensation is jarring. It pulls Shiro away from the edge of terror.

“Come back to me, Takashi,” Keith coaxes.

 It takes a moment, but Shiro collects himself. He takes a deep breath and leans forward to kiss the troubled arch of Keith’s brow. “Sorry. I’m here, I promise.”

“We could just lay down together if you wanted. We don’t have to do anything because of a stupid, mushy holiday.” Keith says. He presses his fingers into the small Shiro’s back, soothing the tension away. “I just want to be with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

“I’m fine,” Shiro assures. “I was just thinking.”

Keith doesn’t look entirely convinced, so Shiro angles his face down and steals a kiss. He takes his time. He gentles both Keith's and his own apprehension measure by measure, heartbeat by heartbeat. The younger pilot whines sweetly into Shiro’s mouth, and Shiro groans as he swallows up the needy sound. When he draws back, Keith is flush again and wanting. He sways forward even as Shiro gives him a playful little push. Shiro steps back, putting space between them.

Confusion pinches Keith’s brows for the space of a tick. When Shiro starts undressing, the younger paladin makes a low, pleased sound. Shiro is barely through pulling off his boots when Keith crowds in close. His fingers are quick and clever as they attack Shiro’s belt. Keith pulls it deftly through the loops of Shiro’s pants and drops it. It falls with a clink to the floor. The younger man glances up and offers Shiro a sly smile. He pushes his palms up Shiro’s chest and makes quick work of the dark vest. Keith slides the dark material off Shiro’s shoulders where it joins the belt on the floor.

Shiro counters and divests Keith of his jacket. The gloves come next, which Shiro removes with great care. He pauses to kiss each one of Keith’s fingertips, he wants to take his time with this. Shiro wants to unwrap Keith slowly, wants to make this special. But Keith is impatient. Frustration bleeds into his expression. He allows the teasing touch a moment or two longer, then bats Shiro’s hands away. He pushes palms up under the clinging fabric of Shiro’s shirt to get rid of it. Keith’s hands are deliciously warm on Shiro’s skin, and his muscles clench and shiver in response to the touch.

“You’re taking too damned long, Shirogane,” Keith comments as he nips at Shiro’s mouth.

“Maybe,” Shiro agrees as Keith yanks the fabric up over his head. “Maybe I just want to enjoy this.”

When the shirt is gone Keith’s mouth latches to Shiro’s neck and he sucks a bruising kiss into the flesh there. Shiro hums out a long groan and grounds himself by grabbing on to Keith’s hips. They rock forward and Shiro is reminded of Keith’s prominent arousal. Shiro wants it, and now that they’re alone and cloistered away in Keith’s room, he can act on the desire without interruption.

He reaches around and palms at the lush curve of Keith’s buttocks. The touch is possessive and Shiro grinds his hips forward somewhat brutishly. Keith hisses out in a rush and curses vehemently. He rolls forward and the hardness in his pants grinds against Shiro’s own swollen cock.

“I thought you wanted to take your time?” Keith asks, breathless. His voice is raspy and has lowered an octave.

Shiro grunts and repeats the motion of rolling his hips. “Changed my mind,” He decides. “Now I just want to fuck.”

It’s a little crass and Shiro feels a bit dirty for phrasing it like that. Especially given the significance of the date. But it turns Keith’s impatience to fire. Shiro feels the answering heat of it low in his belly. Keith twists in his arms and creates space between their bodies. He trails his fingertips down Shiro’s abdomen, from his navel to where Shiro’s pants sit low on his hips.

"I don't think you know what you want," Keith observes as he gives the waistband of Shiro's pants a sharp tug. “Take these off. Now."

"I know I want you," Shiro says as he scrambles to comply.

He pops the button quickly, and slides the snug fabric down over his legs and off. His cock bobs free, proud and flush; warm where it twitches against Shiro's stomach. He reaches down to palm himself unabashedly, waiting for his next directive.

Keith smiles as he watches. His eyes are dark and fixed on where Shiro’s hand is curled around himself. Keith pulls off his own shirt and tosses it aside. Skin florid from arousal, the younger man is pink all down his neck and chest. His nipples, pebbled and tight are a distraction for Shiro. He wants to kiss them, to suck at the dimpled flesh until Keith squirms and curses. Shiro grins instead. He tightens his palm around his prick and gives a slow, twisting pull. Keith groans in frustration.

“Bed,” Keith commands. His voice is pitchy and breathless. “Kneel down.”

 Shiro does as he’s told. He moves past Keith to the neatly made bed on the floor. He sinks down fluidly, kneeling on the mattress. Shiro can only imagine the picture he makes but knows Keith must like what he sees. It's plain in the way that the other paladin's eyes follow Shiro, solicitous and eager.

Keith stalks forward once Shiro has settled. He pulls the fastenings of his own jeans open and steps into Shiro’s space. He’s gentle as his fingers slide up into Shiro’s hair. He cups the back of Shiro’s skull and eases forward. Keith’s hips press into Shiro’s face.

Shiro rumbles out a loud groan and nudges his nose into the bulk of Keith’s arousal. He draws in a deep breath, mouthing at the younger man's hard cock through the fabric of his underwear. Keith shivers and curses. His hips buck forward and Shiro reaches up to pull at Keith’s clothing. He drags Keith’s garments down until they bunch around Keith’s thighs. It doesn’t matter. Shiro wants Keith’s prick. He wants to weight and musk of it in his mouth and on his tongue. He buries his face into the juncture of Keith’s thigh and groin where he nips and kisses the skin there. Keith whines so Shiro takes pity and moves his mouth at the other man's prick.

Keith’s hips jump forward as Shiro trails wet kisses along the length of him. When he reaches the smooth curve of the glans, peeking from folded skin, Shiro kisses that as well. Dainty and fleeting. Keith _squeaks_. His fingers tangle in the long strands of Shiro’s hair and he pulls.

“Seriously?” Keith splutters.

Shiro grins, innocent. He pushes close to drag his lips along the warmth of Keith’s cock. “Mmm,” He hums. The sound rumbles up from deep in his chest. “You looked like you needed to be kissed.”

Keith squirms in embarrassment. It doesn’t last long. Seconds later he angles forward and nudges the damp head of his prick against Shiro’s mouth. Shiro takes the hint. He pulls Keith’s hardness back into his mouth and sucks on it lazily. The fingers in Shiro’s hair loosen and Keith blows out a gusty sigh. Shiro picks up the pace. He bobs his head and tongues the veiny texture along Keith’s shaft. He hums when Keith bends forward and he increases the suctioning pressure.

Shiro’s cheeks hollow, and Keith whines when he finds he can’t move. Shiro is holding him too tightly. Keith starts to crumble and his fingers clench in Shiro’s hair. He makes a startled noise that Shiro knows to mean that Keith is overstimulated and close. So Shiro gentles the pressure and draws away. Keith is panting loudly when Shiro loosens his arms around the back of Keith's thighs.

Keith is a mess. He trembles as he clings to Shiro. It’s lovely, though. Keith is lovely. All fire and fierce loyalty and unflinching devotion. His edges are sharp and soft all at once and Shiro loves him for it. He tips his wet chin up and hugs Keith close. The younger man is scraping his fingers into Shiro’s scalp and Shiro releases a pleased sound. He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again Keith looks a little lost and so very beautiful.

“Takashi,” He breathes out. “You know I love you, right?”

Keith sounds so unsure of himself. Why, after all this time, Shiro can’t understand. Well, no. He does understand it. He knows that even now Keith is still so afraid that this is all some big cosmic joke; that somehow he’ll still end up alone. Shiro isn’t going anywhere, though. Not so long as he can help it. He went through hell once just to get back home and back to Keith. He’ll do it again if he has to. Keith must know that.

“Of course I know, Keith,” He assures, warm and gentle. He surges up to press a kiss into Keith’s sternum. "I know I love to hear you say it, too."

Keith’s insecurity flees almost instantly. He smiles and gives Shiro’s shoulder a bit of a shove. Shiro propels himself backward and splays out across the bed. He stretches out and makes himself comfortable. He keeps his arms open, though and eyes Keith hopefully.

"Come down here?" He asks. "Maybe without the pants, though?"

Keith's smile gets a bit wider. “I was trying to be serious,” He admonishes.

"Be seriously naked down here, then," Shiro shoots back. "It's lonely by myself."

Keith rolls his eyes. Shiro knows the look, knows that it means that Keith is annoyed and amused and trying not to be so stupidly in love. Shiro grins like an idiot as Keith wriggles out of his jeans as kicks them aside. He grins even wider as Keith steps forward to sink down atop him.

Skin on skin, the curve of Keith’s buttocks nestles neatly against Shiro’s cock. When Keith rocks forward with purpose, Shiro can't help but groan. Their foreheads touch and Keith leans close to kiss Shiro; sweet and fleeting.

Shiro hums in response. He has the wealth of Keith's naked skin at his disposal now so he rubs his palms up along the younger man's back. Keith grins and bends forward to kiss Shiro’s chin. He drags his mouth up Shiro's jaw to his ear and kisses that as well. When Keith cups Shiro's face in his hands, the younger man's expression becomes thoughtful and far away. He thumbs at the jagged edge of the scar that bisects Shiro’s face.

A tightness forms in Shiro’s throat. It only becomes worse when Keith presses his mouth against the thick, knotted tissue. Shiro shrugs away from the touch. He dislikes the way it leaves him feeling so raw. Keith is persistent, though, and so very, very gentle. He kisses the scar again.

“Keith,” Shiro warns. His tone is mellow, but it skirts the edge.

“I love you,” Keith replies, fierce despite the softness of his touch. “You’re here. You came back. You’re still _you_ and you came back to me.

Shiro’s throat constricts further. He doesn't want to talk about this, he doesn't want to think about it. He knows Keith needed to say it, needed Shiro to hear it, but it hurts. It is still too fresh.

“I’ll always come back to you,” He tells Keith in a rush. He wants to say more, but words feel too inelegant and small for what Shiro feels. He crushes Keith close instead and buries his face against the softness of Keith’s neck.

Keith releases a shuddering breath. He clutches Shiro tight, arms wrapped more or less around Shiro’s head. The position is awkward, and Shiro can’t really breathe but it’s a small price to pay. He holds on to Keith, and Keith holds on to him. The choking tension spreads from Shiro’s throat and into his lungs. It takes a while for it to ease. When it does Shiro is able to loosen the hold he has on Keith. They still cling to one another, though. Shiro, a little hysterical, wonders if he’s ruined the whole night.

“Sorry,” He mumbles the question into Keith’s skin. "That was probably a little too serious, huh?"

“A little,” Keith agrees. He disentangles himself which gives Shiro a bit more room to breathe. “Sorry, I didn't mean-- Is it okay if I kiss you?"

Shiro decides the idea is a solid one. He kisses Keith like a man who is drowning. In some ways, Shiro supposes, he is. Keith, surprised by the voracity of the kiss, startles and stiffens and then softens with a low groan. He lets Shiro have command of the exchange. Shiro takes it; takes Keith and all he is offering as their mouths press and slide wetly together. When Keith rocks back and reminds Shiro where they are crowded together skin to skin, he _growls_. Low and possessive. Shiro nips at Keith’s lips draws away and attacks the shapely curve of Keith’s neck.

The gasp that falls from the younger man’s lips is a startled one. He bucks in Shiro’s arms then rolls back to rub against Shiro’s cock. Shiro can feel where he slides against Keith’s perineum. Can feel where the flush head of his cock bumps against Keith’s balls and leaves a leaking, sticky trail. Shiro groans and sucks a kiss into Keith’s neck. He slides his warm, human fingers along the curve of Keith’s backside and digs them in. He squeezes and kneads the muscle. When Shiro insinuates his fingers very close to Keith’s tightly furled entrance the younger man squirms.

“I thought--” Keith starts with a grunt, distracted by the probing caress of Shiro’s fingers. “I thought you wanted me to-- Do you still, or-- Ah, fuck it all _\-- Takashi_ \-- do you want this instead?”

Shiro thinks about it a moment, tries to decide what he wants. Any way he spins it, the outcome is still the same and it’s still _good_. Shiro can’t deny that, nor can he deny the fact that most of the time he wants Keith any way Keith will let Shiro have him. He skirts his fingers away from the tempting heat he’s found. He palms at the younger man’s backside. Then Shiro bounces up and grinds against Keith.

“You seemed like you were having fun bossing me around,” Shiro points out. It earns him a snorting chuckle from Keith, and a grin. “How do _you_ want me?”

Keith’s answer is immediate. “Touch me. Where you were before.” He says. It’s an order, all heat, and unflinching command.

Shiro does as he's told. He trails the tips of his fingers along Keith’s skin and twists his hips in a lazy roll. He presses his index finger where Keith wants it. When Shiro flicks his eyes up Keith is grinning.

“Should I be doing this with lube, babe?” Shiro asks.

Keith sits up response. He stretches like a cat toward the alcove where the mattress usually sits. When he draws back he has a familiar jar in his hands. He’s rocking down against Shiro’s cock as he unscrews the lid. Smooth rolling motions that leave Shiro puffing out in sharp, stilted breaths. Shiro knows it’s meant to tease, meant to entice. He thinks about surging up, about grabbing Keith by the hips and flipping their positions. He wants to rut against the snug fold of Keith’s body and push inside.

 _Patience_ , Shiro tells himself. He takes a steadying breath and shoots Keith a helpless look. The younger paladin grins and snatches at Shiro’s hand. He coats Shiro’s flesh-and-blood fingers liberally with what’s inside the jar.

“Touch me.” Keith directs again. He bends forward and his lips drag across Shiro’s face, gentle and coaxing.

Shiro presses a slick digit into Keith up to the first knuckle to test the give of him. Keith grunts in impatience and pushes against the intrusion to breach himself further.

“I’m not going to break, Takashi. We fucked last night.” He says, wry.

Shiro withdraws. He adds his middle finger and eases back into the snug embrace of Keith’s body. “Language, Buttercup.” He chides with a grin. He scissors his fingers and Keith squirms.

“Do as your fucking told, my sweetness.” Keith shoots back. He attempts a scowl but the effect is somewhat ruined by the delicate knit in his brow and the way that he’s biting his lip.

Shiro decides he wants to bite Keith’s lip too. He surges up, careful not to dislodge Keith and catches the younger man’s mouth with his own. He sucks on Keith’s lip as he twists his wrists and pushes a third finger inside.

Keith trembles in Shiro’s arms. He breathes out a long, low groan. Shiro devours it and devours Keith. He pumps and twists and stretches the snug channel of muscle. When Shiro catches the hidden bundle of nerves with the tips of his fingers, Keith jolts. The other paladin curses and lurches against the solid press of Shiro’s body.

Shiro _loves_ this part. He loves watching as Keith catches fire and starts to come apart in increments. Ruthless, Shiro bumps Keith’s prostrate again and it draws a distressed whine from the younger man.

“Takashi,” Keith pleads with a gasp. “Takashi, please… _Please_.”

“Please, _what_? Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want.”

Keith makes a frustrated noise. He rocks back onto Shiro’s fingers, then he does it again. Finally, he reaches back to snatch Shiro by the wrist. “Stop,” He gasps.

Shiro complies. He waits for his next order with bated breath.

Keith is shivering above him. He has his eyes pinched shut and his breathing is heavy and labored. He’s deciding, Shiro thinks. Deciding and over-stimulated and trying not to fly apart. Eventually, Keith opens his eyes. They are liquid and hot and Shiro is pinned by the heat of them. He slides the palm of his mechanized limb up Keith’s side, soothing and affectionate.

Keith says nothing, but he lifts himself just enough so that Shiro’s trapped cock springs free. He redirects Shiro’s slick fingers guiding them to where Shiro’s arousal is waiting to be attended.

“Touch yourself.” Keith requests. It’s a group effort, though, mostly due to the awkward angle.

Shiro slicks himself as best he can. Keith retrieves another dollop of lubricant. Their fingers tangle around the girth of Shiro’s cock, and he groans when Keith slides a thumb over the slick head. It’s good. So very good. A pleased rumble catches in his throat. Keith flashes Shiro a grin; feral and dangerous.

“Hands off. On the mattress. ” Keith commands. His voice is a gravelly murmur.

Shiro is reluctant. He wants to touch. Not himself necessarily, he just wants to remain connected. He likes the way Keith’s body ripples and compresses. He likes the way Keith shivers and stills and catches on Shiro’s prick during the initial joining. He frowns a little, disappointed.

Keith flows forward. The younger man nips the scowl right off Shiro’s mouth. “What did I say, _Cadet_?”

Desire rolls and swells in Shiro’s guts, molten and sharp. He groans when his prick twitches and he jams his hands away. He plants them on the bed where they may as well be weighed down by two tons of brick. Keith’s smirk is sly and satisfied. He bites at Shiro’s mouth again.

“Good boy,” Keith praises.

His fist curls around Shiro’s arousal. Keith gives it a few lazy strokes, then he nudges it against himself. The slick compression and familiar heat of Keith’s body is exquisite. Shiro’s breath catches and he whines as Keith sinks down. His fists curl and clench into the bedding, but Shiro doesn’t dare move. He is entirely at the mercy of the younger paladin. Above him, Keith lifts and pushes down. He spears himself on Shiro’s cock. Shallow at first, then gaining more depth. There is sweat beading Keith’s brow, and his nose is wrinkled in mild discomfort.

Shiro makes a soft, insensible sound. Keith’s eyes flick up. They pin Shiro in place as Keith moves. A smile curls up the corners of the younger man’s mouth. Shiro smiles back, soft and elated. He bends forward, seeking contact. Keith grabs him by the shoulders and their noses bump together as Keith rolls his hips. When he bottoms out, it pulls a groan from the both of them.

“You feel so good.” Keith sighs. He’s rocking slowly, his touch gentle as he cups the base of Shiro’s skull in his hands.

“Can I touch you?” Shiro counters, breathless.

Keith rumbles out low, affirmative noise and Shiro lifts his hands. He sets his palms to Keith’s flanks, grabbing on and grounding himself. Keith bucks up with a twist then and eases down onto Shiro’s prick. He does it again, this time with more force. Shiro’s feels the muscle clench and tighten around him. It sends tendrils of heat sparking through his body and down into his balls.

Shiro isn’t sure how much more of this he can take. It feels fantastic, but it isn’t enough. Not by half. He’s a bit surprised, to be honest. Usually, Keith is the impatient one. Two measures later, and Shiro decides enough is enough. He loops his arms around Keith’s middle and _moves_.

Keith spills out across the mattress. He looks more satisfied than surprised. He spreads his legs in invitation and Shiro pushes himself between Keith's thighs. They hitch up around Shiro’s middle as he guides the hard length of his cock back inside Keith’s body. Rejoined, Keith groans out his approval. He’s still got his hands at the back of Shiro’s neck and he drags Shiro closer. Keith bullies Shiro into an artless kiss as he surges up to meet the roll of Shiro’s hips.

“Hard,” Keith demands.

Shiro balances his weight on his outstretched forearms. His hips snap forward ruthlessly. It makes Keith gasp and curse. The younger pilot clenches around Shiro so he does it again. He finds his stride and it’s relentless and frenetic. Shiro punches the air from Keith’s lungs with each frantic thrust. The wheezing sound Keith is making is a broken, whining thing and Shiro loves it. He loves the burn and the pressure and the slick slide of their sweaty skin as it presses together.

As much as Shiro loves it, though, he knows that if he keeps up the bruising pace it’ll be over too soon. Shiro slows and sits up. He eases Keith’s legs from around his body and catches them behind the knee. He hauls Keith into position and the adjustment leaves Keith’s splayed apart and open. It lewd and enticing. Shiro groans.

Keith is shaking. His dark hair clings to his sweaty neck, and he’s red right down to his belly button. Keith’s prick is equally pink. It bobs against the flat plain his stomach where it smears the skin with pre-ejaculate.

Shiro tips his pelvis back in a smooth roll. He watches as his cock slides free of Keith, watches as the slick head catches at the fluttering ring of muscle. When he jerks forward to jam back into the slick heat of Keith’s body, Shiro does it _hard_. Below him, Keith’s twitches in surprise. His dark lashes flutter prettily and he groans. So Shiro does it again. And again and _again_. Keith squirms under the assault and his fingers twist into the bedding beneath him.

Shiro's grip starts to slip on Keith's slick skin. He readjusts his stance and grabs Keith by the ankles. He picks up the pace and his eyes lock with Keith's as the younger man's fingers fly to his own leaking prick. He pumps himself shamelessly and Shiro feels a little wrecked. The tell-tale flutter low in his gut, tells Shiro that he isn’t going to last much longer.

“Keith, _Babe_. You look so good.” He groans.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Keith pants out. His grin is reckless and wolfish.

Shiro barks out a laugh and it nearly throws him off his stride. Keith is too distracted to care or complain. He's pumping himself with steadfast abandon. Shiro watches as the slick head of Keith’s prick disappears into the clutch of his wet fingers. Seconds later the younger pilot’s body goes rigid. Keith shivers all over and then continues to shake through his completion.

Shiro carries Keith through it with one slapping thrust after another. Ejaculate wets Keith’s curled fist as it continues to move. The wet sound of it is loud and positively filthy. Shiro groans, distracted by the winking slit at the head of Keith’s prick. It continues to leak and spill even as Keith whines.

Shiro’s own build starts to peak. His fingers clench around Keith’s ankles and Shiro loses his pace. He chases after the feeling and his lungs start to burn with the effort. When it hits it’s quick and sudden and like a storm. Shiro sobs out a curse, caught in a mindless rut until the wet slap of skin on skin becomes too much. His body tingles all over and he feels untethered and off-balance. Shiro tries to catch his breath, but he feels strange in his own body.

“Takashi,” Keith wheezes. He’s still trembling. “ _Takashi_ , it's okay. I’ve got you, come back to me.”

Shiro releases a soft, shaky breath. He returns to himself in small measures. He lets go of Keith’s ankles and eases his softening prick from the slick embrace of the younger man’s body. When Shiro leans away to makes some space between them, Keith’s thighs catch him. His ankles link behind Shiro’s back and Keith draws him down into a sweaty embrace.

Shiro can’t say why he feels out of sorts all of a sudden. He doesn’t know what is going on in his head, and he can’t even begin to explain it to Keith. He knows he should be blissed out on the endorphin rush. Instead, he feels wrung out and distressed. Keith doesn’t ask, he doesn’t push it. Instead, he scrapes his fingers soothingly against Shiro’s scalp. Somehow that makes it better. They stay like that, quiet and wrapped around one another. Slowly Shiro’s world re-orders itself, bit by aching bit.

After a while, Keith clears his throat. “Okay?” He asks. Shiro nods and makes a quiet noise of affirmation. Keith plants a kiss on Shiro’s sweaty brow. “Good.” He says.

Then Keith shimmies away. Shiro lets him go. He rolls onto his back and watches as Keith pulls himself gingerly to his feet. The younger man doesn’t go far. He pads into the bathroom and forgets to shut the door. Shiro hears the flush of the toilet followed by the rush of the faucet. When Keith comes back out into the bedroom, he chucks a damp cloth at Shiro’s head.

“Wash up. I’m not sleeping on you if you’re covering in spunk.”

Shiro rolls his eyes. He feels better as he runs the cloth over his soft prick. When he’s finished he tosses the cloth aside. Keith slinks over to the bed and nudges Shiro with his foot.

“Blankets,” Keith says, voice mild.

“Pushy,” Shiro replies. But he rolls upright and tugs the blankets out from underneath him.

“No, _efficient,_ ” Keith counters. “You fall asleep on top of that shit and you’re going to complain about being cold in like an hour from now. Then you’ll stick your nasty cold feet all over me.”

Shiro grins as he settles himself. Keith crawls in beside him. He arranges himself comfortably and when he’s settled he’s laying halfway across Shiro’s chest. Shiro pulls the covers over them and slides an arm around the small of Keith’s back.

“Babe. You love my cold feet.” Shiro teases. Keith is not amused. He scowls up at Shiro like they haven’t just finished having _really_ good sex.

“I love sleeping by myself too, _babe_. Especially when it means I get to stay warm.” Keith says voice bland.

“But _babe_ ,” Shiro says in mock affront.

Keith rolls his eyes. But he smiles just the same. “What did I say earlier?” He demands. He scoots up the length of Shiro’s body and reaches out to flick Shiro’s nose. “Don’t you _babe_ me.”

Shiro laughs, and Keith does as well. He smothers the sound by turning his face into Shiro’s chest. When they finally stop snickering, Keith bends to kiss the spot just beside the solid thump of Shiro’s heart.

Shiro smiles and runs his fingers through Keith’s long hair. “Happy Valentine's day, Keith.” He says.

“Happy Valentine's day, Takashi.”

 

 

 

*******

 

 

  
Later, much later, Shiro wakes up to cold feet. Keith, who is now on the opposite end of the mattress, has all the blankets twisted around him. Shiro wrinkles his nose. He's cold and has to piss. He gets up and pads into the bathroom to relieve himself. When he slips back out into the bedroom, he pauses. The string of lights still illuminate the room. They cast their warm light over Keith who is curled up peaceful and asleep.

Affection unfurls languid and soft in Shiro’s chest. He moves to crawl back into bed but notes two envelopes on Keith's desk. One is familiar. It's addressed to Keith and has been opened. The other has Shiro's name on it.

Shiro moves toward the desk instead and picks the envelope up. He tries not to disturb Keith as he lifts the flap and pulls the card inside out. The simplistic design inked into the front of the card is lovely and no doubt Keith's work. Shiro takes a moment to study the swirly, vine-like design and is touched by the effort. When he opens the card there is a long message carefully blocked out in neat, Japanese script.

Shiro smiles around the heavy lump that is forming at the base of his throat. It takes him a while to get through the message. By the time Shiro reads through it twice, dampness clings to his eyelashes. He doesn’t hear the rustle of fabric at first. Shiro doesn’t even realize that Keith is awake until he hears a soft, sleepy murmur. It startles Shiro a bit. He clears his throat and scrubs at his eyes with the palm of his hand.

“Takashi?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Shiro replies. “I was in the bathroom.”

On the bed, Keith makes quiet, thoughtful sound. He twists around to resettle himself. Shiro can see the dark mess of his hair over the cacoon of blankets.

“Come back to bed,” Keith says.

Shiro sets aside the card and goes. Keith welcomes him with open arms and they tangle around one another. Keith jolts when Shiro’s chilly feet bump his own. The younger man makes a quiet, disgusted noise, but lets the infraction slide. Tenderness explodes beneath Shiro’s rib cage and he bends to kiss the top of Keith’s head.

“Sleep now,” Keith scolds. His tone is slurred by sleep but gentle. “You can be sappy later.”

Shiro makes a soft noise that's caught somewhere between amusement and hopeless devotion. “Yeah, okay.” He says with a wet sniffle. “Good night, Keith.”

“ G'night you big nerd.”

  
Shiro smiles. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

 


End file.
